Falling Out of an Ambush
by Yesm777
Summary: On a simple mission, the team meets unexpected danger. Stuck fending for themselves in uninhabitable terrain, they have to find a way to get their injured team leader and teammates to safety and medical help. Mostly Hurt!Adam. A bit of Hurt!Preach and Hurt!Amir.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Ha__HA__! I have finally finished a chapter of a new story. This is based off a request from _Aleiksa_, so I hope I've met (and maaaaybe exceeded?) expectations._

_As a reminder, I am not a medical professional, so forgive my medical mistakes. I do my best to research, but there's only so much on the interwebs._

_Anyway, enjoy! And thanks for stopping by. I sure appreciate ya'll and your kind support._

* * *

**Chapter One**

"I like a good hike, but this is something else," Jaz joked, scaling the rocky incline. They carefully picked their way along the mountain trail, wary of the sudden drop-off only feet away from their boots.

"Can't handle it, sharpshooter?" McG snickered.

Jaz chuckled in reply. "Didn't say that. But you should probably be more worried about Amir. You know, those little legs."

"Maybe they're not as long as McG's, but they're long enough to kick your ass," Amir quipped, smirking.

Jaz's eyebrows shot up as a grin stretched across her face. "Hohoooo! The sass! Didn't know you had it in you."

Amir let out a quiet laugh. "I have my moments."

A warm chuckle rippled down the line.

"I'm all for a little team camaraderie, but now's not the time," Adam admonished, leading them over the cliffside trails. "We're in suspected hostile territory, so stay sharp."

Holding back their smiles, the team quieted down, focusing instead on the trail ahead.

Every now and then, a small rock would tumble down the mountainside, skittering across their path. But other than the wind, it was quiet up here. Empty.

It was mostly a scouting mission, usually left to a different team entirely. It didn't really require their strong set of skills. But the mission had been born from some pretty important intel, and they were the only team available for the job.

So here they were, traipsing around cliff edges just to see if high-priority hostiles had really holed themselves up in the unforgiving terrain.

Looking at the rocky earth and steep drops, most of the team doubted it. But Adam was nothing if not thorough, so if he took it seriously, they took it seriously. And all they really had to do was report if they saw anyone.

So far, there was nothing. Just rock. And more rock. And more rock. A seemingly endless expanse of barren, tough terrain.

The wind picked up further, howling in their ears and blowing dust up into their eyes. It wasn't the most pleasant mission they'd ever had, but it also wasn't the worst.

At the front, Adam strained to listen intently past the angry wind, on guard for any signs of life. They came to a fork, the right path going down across the mountainside while the left stayed level. Making a decision, Adam opted for the left, certain they'd have a better vantage point from above rather than below. He kept walking, navigating the uneven ground with special care.

And then he heard it behind the wind. Loud, fast footsteps from ahead. Around the bend.

Looking at the narrow path, he knew there was nothing the team could do.

Except fight.

So he moved to grab his rifle, hopefully alerting his team behind him.

But he didn't have time.

Before he could get a firm grip on his gun, a man came around the bend, running right into Adam.

But instead of being surprised by the encounter, the man immediately lunged at Adam, ready for a fight. Adam quickly moved to defend himself, dodging a punch and catching the next fist with his hand. With his free limb, the man pulled a knife, and Adam quickly moved to keep the blade from sinking into his flesh.

As other men squeezed from behind the stranger, Adam could only keep a firm grip on his assailant and pray his team was prepared for the sudden onslaught.

The man shifted, and Adam responded, leading to a tussle of one trying to get an advantage over the other, all while Adam kept a careful eye on the dirty blade. Arms scrabbled for the upper hand, while their legs kicked out at each other in an attempt to both attack and defend. The man managed to tear one arm free, swiping the knife downward, leaving a trail of red on Adam's leg. He growled in pain, renewing his efforts as he grappled with the man and his knife.

Adam's heart sunk as gunshots rang out behind him. He couldn't see what had become of his team, instead locked in with his opponent. And he could feel warm liquid seeping into his pant leg. How the hell had it come to this?

Another shot and a yelp from Amir.

Adam struggled against his enemy, trying to get free, another knife wound be damned. He had to help his team. He had to.

And just as he got free, the man rushed forward, tackling Adam.

Adam felt a sharp pain in his lower side as they collided.

Then the ground beneath them disappeared.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When Jaz saw Adam reach for his weapon, she knew what was coming.

And it all went downhill so fast.

As Adam wrestled with his attacker, more men slid past them, one immediately slamming the butt of his rifle into Preach's temple.

The larger man dropped, still conscious, but clearly not all there.

Jaz watched helplessly as two men descended on Preach, kicking at the softest parts of his body. She snapped up her rifle, taking aim as their new enemies hastily positioned their own weapons.

And then they were shooting. Wildly.

With one careful shot, she took down one and immediately took aim at another, attempting to dodge their sloppy attacks.

Amir cried out ahead of her, holding onto his arm as he collapsed against the rocky wall. Alarmed, she kept her focus, releasing another shot. And another. She heard gunfire beside her as McG joined the firefight.

And then they saw it.

Adam broke free from his assailant, only to be tackled by the same man.

And the two of them went over the cliff's edge.

"No!" Jaz screamed. She wanted to run to where Adam fell, but Preach and Amir needed her just as much.

So through her distress, she raised her rifle again, aiming at Preach's now exposed attackers.

And she fired.

So did McG.

Both men fell. Dead. Leaving only silence in their wake.

_"Is everyone alright?" _Noah's voice buzzed in their ears, all kindness and concern. But they couldn't answer him right now. They had higher priorities.

Jaz quickly moved to Amir as McG rushed to Preach, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

"You okay?" she asked the ex-spy, one hand softly squeezing his shoulder. Blood leaked through his fingers, attempting to stem the flow of blood from his bicep.

"It's fine. Just a graze," he bit out. "Check on Top."

Jaz hesitated, eyes falling to the fresh red on his fingers.

"I said I'm fine, Jaz. Check on Top," Amir repeated hotly, gently pushing her toward the cliff.

Pursing her lips, she finally turned away, moving toward the edge and falling on her knees to look over it.

Before she saw anything, she closed her eyes, suddenly afraid of what she'd find. But she had to look. She had to see.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, staring down at where Adam had disappeared to.

And there he was. Twenty feet down. Lying on his side on the rocky earth.

Unmoving.

"Shit," she breathed, unable to see if Adam was still alive. "Looks like he fell onto another ledge."

His assailant was strewn across his legs, a pool of blood near the man's head. She saw crimson smeared on Adam's side, but she couldn't be sure if it was his or his attacker's.

What if it was his?

She used all her training to keep from panicking.

"Find a way down there."

Jaz looked back at Amir questioningly.

"I'll take care of Preach," he stated firmly, moving toward Preach as he hastily dug through his pockets for bandaging. "You two, get to Top."

McG shook his head. "Let me patch you up first." He reached for his own bag, glancing at Preach before he turned to Amir. "Jaz, get down there. Let me know how you find him, and I'll be right behind you."

Even with a bloodied arm, Amir was already reaching for Preach, inspecting the cut and bruise over the larger man's temple.

Jaz hesitated.

Then without another word, she took off running back the way they came. She remembered a fork at the road, and she hoped the other path led down to where Adam lay.

But what if hadn't survived the fall?

Her foot caught a rock, and she quickly moved to right herself. No. No, no, no. He couldn't be gone. A fall couldn't take out Adam.

The fork loomed ahead and she pushed harder, picking her way through rocks and jagged cuts in the mountain path. Without wasting time, she slid around the fork, sprinting down the sloping trail. Her heart beat wildly against her sternum, and her breath came hard and fast.

She didn't know what she'd find, and she was terrified.

Her breath caught in her chest when she saw familiar blond hair, and as she drew closer, she stopped, frozen by what might be ahead.

If he was gone . . . what would she do?

Inhaling deeply, she pushed onward, quickly closing the gap between her and Adam.

She crouched down, settling two fingers against his throat. His skin was still warm, but . . .

_Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump._

Her shoulders dropped, relieved to find a pulse.

"_Status report? Anyone?"_ Noah's voice was calm but worried, and Jaz couldn't blame him.

_"Preach's taken a bad blow to the head, and Amir's got a bullet graze to the bicep_," McG reported, his voice heavy and low.

Jaz shook her head, thinking about her other two teammates. She almost felt guilty coming out of the scuffle unscathed. But at least she could put her good luck to use.

"Top's got a pulse," she related, getting to work looking him over. McG would need a detailed report, and she wouldn't fail him. She took a closer look at Adam's bloody clothes, hands pulling up fabric to expose his bare belly. "Damn it."

There, just above his hip bone, was a stab wound. Blood welled up from the cut, spilling over at an alarming rate.

_"What is it?"_ McG asked, stern and focused.

Jaz clicked in to hyperdrive, carefully putting Adam on his back, even with his enemy still laid out over his legs. She swiftly tore off her jacket and pressed it against Adam's side to staunch the blood flow. "He's got a knife wound to the lower left abdomen. I'm applying pressure now, but I could use some help soon, and maybe more supplies."

_"I'm coming_," McGuire replied quickly, before muttering to Amir, _"You're good to go. Keep me updated on Preach."_

Jaz could hear Amir conversing with Preach, but nothing from the ex-Navy SEAL's comm. She wondered if it was damaged when he was hit. And from the snippets she caught, it sounded like Preach was struggling to stay alert and present.

Hell, if only she could be with all her guys. Just to know for herself they would make it out of here alive.

Wind chapped her bare arms as she pressed her weight against Adam's wound, waiting anxiously for the medic to arrive. She looked at the dead man strewn over Adam's legs, eager to push him off. But she couldn't. This was priority.

"How's Preach?" she asked into the comms, hoping for some good news.

_"Dazed and badly bruised_," Amir reported stiffly, a wince in his tone. _"He may need support getting off this mountain_."

Shit, she didn't even think about that. They couldn't get a chopper out here, so they'd have to hoof it all the way down. Jaz closed her eyes, bowing her head as she willed her anxiety back into the darker recesses of her mind.

Adam couldn't get the help he needed right away. And they'd have to carry him down the mountain.

She looked at her team leader, unsettled by his slack face. What if he hit his head? What if there was internal bleeding?

Jaz shook her head. She couldn't think about that.

Turning her attention back to her inspection, her eyes fell on a clean slice to his pant leg, familiar crimson staining the edges of the fabric.

They just couldn't catch a break.

"Looks like Top's also got a long, deep cut to his thigh."

_"Damn," _McG muttered, huffing. _"I'm almost there. I've got eyes on you."_

Jaz looked up the path. Sure enough, the medic was trotting down the slope, trying to be fast but careful on the loose ground. And all she could think was, _Be faster_.

McG went right to Adam's legs, squatting down and pressing fingers against the neck of Adam's attacker. Jaz ground her teeth to hide her impatience. She knew McG was checking to make sure they weren't in for a nasty surprise. But she also suspected it was because McG was far more humane than he let on.

"He's dead," McG muttered, immediately pushing the man off Adam. Jaz was happy to see Adam freed of his attacker's weight, but it did little to lighten her fear.

She stared down at Adam's leg. The cut stretched down his thigh, dipping deeper in the center. McG was already inspecting it thoroughly while simultaneously digging through his pack.

So at least the visible bloody wounds were taken care of.

Jaz's mind immediately went to, _What else?_

"Have you had a chance to check him for anything else?"

Jaz shook her head, expecting McG to be frustrated by the news. But he wasn't. He just nodded and ripped open packs of gauze.

"Okay, I'm going to pack the abdominal wound, and then you're going to help me wrap it. Got it?" he instructed, catching her eyes to see if she understood.

"Got it."

"Alright, move your hands away."

Obediently, Jaz pulled her hands and jacket away, trying to ignore the surge of panic that she was abandoning Adam. She wasn't. She was just making room for McG. And as she moved, McG set to rinsing the wound, then packing it with clean gauze. Jaz couldn't look away. Even with a bloody jacket in her lap and bits of dried blood flecking her fingertips, she could only stare as McG worked.

She could only hope this would be enough.

As he was finishing up, McG pushed Adam's shirt up higher to look for other wounds.

And of course, purpling bruises mottled his one side. McG gingerly pressed against his ribs. Then he checked Adam's neck. His head. He peeled back Adam's eyelids to take a look at his pupils.

"Feels like only a few cracked ribs and a blow to the head. But nothing looks dangerous yet. We'll just have to be extra careful when we lift him up." McG quickly inspected his packing job. "You ready to wrap?"

"Ready," Jaz replied hoarsely. She wasn't really ready, but she knew she had to be. So she'd force herself. For Top. For McG.

"One, two, three."

Being mindful of his ribs, the two of them managed to get Adam upright, and between them both, they wrapped his abdomen securely enough to make it off the mountain. And while they had Adam there, McG took a moment to look at his back.

"Alright, let's lay him down."

In tandem, they lowered Adam to the ground again, and McG set to bandaging the team leader's leg hastily.

Jaz took a moment to look at Adam's face. He was already so pale. She wondered if they'd stopped the bleeding in time.

"Okay, Jaz. I need to you check for any other injuries, okay? He's got a bloody cut on the back of his head that'll need bandaging, but I also need you to check the rest of his legs and his arms for any breaks or lacerations, got it?"

"Yeah."

She felt numb. There was a buzz in her ears. Her ribs ached from the anxious heartbeats pumping wildly in her chest.

But she had a job to do.

Arming herself with more bandaging, she inspected Adam's head, finding the smear of blood. It didn't look too bad, but she couldn't be sure, and after cleaning the wound, she wrapped bandaging around his head to cover the bloody injury.

Satisfied with her work, she moved to his arm, first checking for cuts before probing for broken bones. Nothing here.

She moved to the next arm, pausing when she pulled up his sleeve. More bruising, painting swelling skin. With a deep breath, she gently pressed against the area with her fingers, grimacing when it didn't feel quite right.

"McG."

The medic looked over from his work, brow furrowed.

"I think his arm's broken."

McG let out a huff of air. "Okay." He pulled off his jacket, tossing it to her "I need you to roll that up to use as a splint."

Hesitating for a moment, she looked at the jacket, then at their surroundings. Then it clicked. There weren't any sticks out here. Nothing but rocks.

So a jacket it was.

She lined it up carefully before tightly rolling it up. "Now what?"

"Use medical tape to tape it to his arm."

Grabbing the tape, she set to work, putting the rolled up jacket against his arm and ensuring it was straight and stiff. Then she gently secured it to Adam's arm, working carefully to avoid moving the limb too much.

Completing her task, she moved to Adam's legs. McG was still working on bandaging the long slice in Adam's thigh, so she started with the other leg first. No cuts, no noticeable breaks.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she rolled up Adam's other pantleg.

Swelling. With slight bruising. Her fingers probed the area. Felt like another clean break.

Her shoulders dropped.

"McG."

"What?"

He looked over and sighed. "Hell, what a mess."

"What now?"

McG pursed his lips, glancing at Jaz's forgotten jacket in the dirt. "I guess we'll have to use your jacket. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing."

Jaz frowned. "You want me to use a _bloody _jacket on _Top_?"

McG took a deep breath. "I don't like it either. But it beats running up to the guys to grab one of theirs. And since Amir's is bloody now too, you'd have to take it from Preach, who probably isn't coherent enough to know what's going on."

She huffed, reaching for her jacket. "You've got a point."

As she worked, McG finished up bandaging Adam's thigh and moved to help her tape the makeshift splint against Adam's calf.

And for a minute, the medic looked at Adam. Actually _looked _at him. "I don't like his color."

Jaz didn't know what to say, so she just kept quiet.

McG kept staring. "He looks like shit."

"Will he be okay?" Jaz asked. She could see the haunted look in McG's eyes, like he knew something but he didn't want to tell her.

McG started throwing things in his pack, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Might have to give him some blood before we can get the hell out of here." He glanced again at Adam. "I don't like his color," he repeated. He reached for Adam's wrist to take his pulse, then shook his head slightly.

Jaz didn't know what that meant.

Had Adam lost too much blood? Was he fading away despite all their efforts?

What the hell did she have to prepare for?

Jaz shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms to hold in all her messy feelings and block the wind from chilling her bones.

She knew McG always did his best to remain calm and collected. At first, she thought he really didn't think it was too bad. But now his true feelings were starting to leak out, and her panic ratcheted again.

Then suddenly, there was a groan. A shift.

Adam was waking up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Huzzah! A second chapter! And happy St. Patty's! First off, there is some language in here, so I'm sorry if it offends! Also, I apologize if some find this chapter a little slow as things start to rev up, but I hope it's still enjoyable. Thanks for stopping by and sticking around, and stay healthy out there, folks. Healthy vibes to you all!_

**Chapter Two**

All Jaz could do was stare. Stare at Adam as he slowly pushed through unconsciousness. She watched his expression tighten with confusion, and then it slowly shifted into pain.

She didn't know what she could say to him in that moment. Was he even coherent enough to understand?

Fuck, she hoped he was. Incoherent Adam scared her more than anything, and being out here, in the depths of nothingness . . .

"Top?" McG urged softly, having enough courage to coax Adam into the daylight.

Adam let out another groan, shifting a bit. Then stopping as he tightened his jaw.

Anxious, Jaz looked up at the cliffside, grimacing at the height of it. Forget the stab wound. The slice to the thigh. Falling from that height alone would _hurt_. _Everywhere_.

"Top, you with us?" McG tried again, this time settling a hand on Adam's shoulder.

The team leader was slowly coming to his senses. Inch by inch. Clawing his way into the light.

Then he opened his eyes.

Jaz took a deep breath, forcing herself to look at the pained, confused blue peering up at the sky. Adam was starting to breathe faster, his rough landing catching up to his brain and nerves.

McG took hold of Adam's wrist again, keeping steady track of the blond's pulse. "How're you feeling?"

Adam didn't answer. Instead, his eyes slid to find McG's, his lungs still pumping shallowly for air, hitching when his ribs protested the movement.

"Come on, Top. You've gotta give me something to work with here."

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get a handle on things as a shaky hand weakly inched its way over his chest, as if it would somehow ease his throbbing ribs. "H'rts," he bit out through clenched teeth, opening his eyes again as his brows stitched together in angry agony.

Jaz could see Adam's hands starting to shake. She'd seen it before. Adrenaline, showing up a little too late.

After a surge of clarity, his eyes were growing mildly foggy again, as if his mind could no longer keep up with the massive influx of angry pain signals.

And after everything they did, all Jaz and McG could do was be a comforting presence. McG knew Adam would never consent to pain meds in the field, unless his discomfort was somehow hindering the team. And with everything wrapped and splinted, there was nothing else they could do to minimize this agony.

Helplessly, the two sat beside him as he shook, already deathly pale and unable to stop his adrenaline-fed quivering as it sparked waves of torturous agony.

Jaz looked at McG, startled to see him looking back.

"We need to start a blood transfusion."

She knew what that meant. She knew what it meant the first time McG said it. Jaz was a match, so she'd have to spare her own blood.

But honestly, it wasn't even a question to her.

"Then let's do it," she answered, dark eyes fiery with determination.

McG starting pulling supplies from his pack, prepping as quickly as he could manage. He was eyeing Adam's shivering limbs, pressing his lips in a tight line. It wouldn't be easy to get a line in, but the medic had dealt with worse. And he wasn't going to start pulling Adam off this mountain without a little extra juice to keep him more alive.

Because, hell, the man was too pale.

In a fleeting moment, McG wondered if he'd packed the abdominal wound enough. Then he wondered if the packing job would last long enough to get real medical help.

Then he remembered he couldn't waste time worrying about things he knew he'd done properly. Even if it was Top. Even if they were stuck on this damn mountainside trying to put blood back into his body.

McG glanced at Adam's face again. Adam was fading, but not enough to actually dip back into unconsciousness.

This was agonizing.

There was nothing more painful to McG than watching someone he cared about constantly in pain. At this point, he _wished _Adam would pass out again, if only to give him a moment of reprieve.

Because when they started moving off these mountains . . . it wasn't going to get any better.

Jaz's arm was already out, waiting for the transfusion, and McG spared a moment to be grateful for his teammates' undying loyalty.

It took him only a moment to set up the transfusion, inserting one needle in the crook of Jaz's elbow and holding Adam's arm's firmly as he found the vein and inserted another needle. Once it was set up, he sat back to watch the blood flow. And still, he couldn't smooth away the wrinkled anxiety in his chest.

"How're you doing, Top?" he asked calmly, determined to stay strong for Jaz, even if Adam wasn't aware enough to notice.

Adam blinked harshly, uselessly trying to get a handle on his shivering body, his good arm still gingerly draped over his chest. "'M ok'y."

A lie. A downright lie.

But McG wasn't surprised. It just meant that there was enough of Adam to be stubborn. And strangely, it offered some comfort.

The medic patted Adam's shoulder. "We'll get you down this mountain in no time. No sweat."

McG knew that wasn't even close to the truth. It was going to be a painful trek. A slow one. With Preach incapacitated and Amir injured, the best chance Adam had of getting off that mountain was McG and Jaz. And McG was one of the first to say that Jaz was strong as hell, but Adam wasn't a lightweight.

In times like this, McG was realistic.

"How _are _we getting him off this mountain?" Jaz hissed, hoping Adam was too preoccupied to hear her.

"With his injuries, I don't think I can carry him on my shoulders. You and I will just have to support him between us," McG explained, already looking grim.

Jaz stared. Tracing the tight lines on McG's face.

This was bad.

This was _really _bad.

"But with—"

"I know," McG huffed. "It's going to suck, but it's the only option we have."

Jaz swallowed her response, dropping her gaze to the needle in her arm. "Do you think this will be enough for the hike back?" she asked quietly. "What if he loses more blood?"

Her eyes found McG's again, and with a simple look, she knew McG had already considered the possibility.

"I'll give more if I have to," she volunteered.

McG shook his head. "I don't want to do that unless it's absolutely necessary."

Jaz could easily hear the silent, _But if it's that bad, we might have to. _Her heart stuttered.

There was a faint crackle over the comms. _"Preach is starting to get a handle on things," _Amir reported evenly. _"Still a bit unbalanced and disoriented, but I think he should be good to go."_

With a deep breath, Jaz looked to the sky. "Good to hear," she replied. "We've got Top on a transfusion. Once we're done, we're going to start heading down."

There was a tight silence on the other end, and Jaz could almost feel Amir's angry helplessness. She locked eyes with McG, sharing a knowing look.

_"What's the damage?"_

McG took a moment to collect himself. "Stab wound to the lower right abdomen, deep laceration to the thigh, cracked ribs, a possible fractured arm . . . and a possible fractured leg. And what looks to be a mild head wound. And I'm sure there's going to be a lot of bruising from the fall." He paused, looking forlornly over his fallen leader. Adam was too focused on trying to breathe through throbs and spikes of pain bouncing through his right side. "Looks like he fell on his side. Amazing he survived the fall, really."

Silent seconds ticked by, dousing them all in a shadow of defeat.

_"I guess we count our blessings," _Amir offered, sounding both irritated and beat down at the same time.

"Command, we're going to do what we have to to get Top and Preach off this mountain, unless you have something else to offer," McG muttered, settling into a focused stare on Adam's bloody abdomen.

_"We trust you completely. Do whatever you need to," _Patricia answered, immediately falling back into silence.

This was so surreal, but not a complete surprise. Something like this could've happened on any mission. It could've happened in China. In Tehran.

They'd just managed to dodge the absolute worst outcomes.

Not knowing what to say, the team sat in silence, letting the minutes slip by. Praying, hoping for a good outcome.

"Okay, let's call it for now," McG announced, gesturing to the transfusion setup. "Then we'll get the hell out of here."

Jaz nodded, waiting patiently as McG safely removed the line from both her and Adam. An uneasy feeling started to burrow into the pit of her stomach. Things were bad enough now, with Adam pale and quivering on the rocky path, his enemy lying dead at his feet. Moving him?

She tensed.

McG did a final check, looking over the splints and bandages to ensure they were secure. "How're you doing, Top?"

Adam didn't answer right away, fading in and out of the overwhelming pain and the conscious world. His body still wouldn't let him sleep. Even when he did answer, all he could manage was a small nod.

"Amir, we'll meet you two at the fork, got it?" McG relayed, clenching and unclenching his fists. Jaz noticed but chose not to say anything.

_"Got it."_

The medic looked at Jaz, both sharing a quietly fear-filled gaze. "Okay, Jaz, you take his left. I'll take his right. On three, we get him up."

She nodded curtly, sure speaking would betray her feelings, then got into position. McG had elected to take Adam's injured side, something she was immensely grateful for.

"Alright. One. Two. _Three_."

Together, they lifted Adam by the shoulders and arms, pulling up slowly but steadily. Between clenched teeth, Adam let out a grating growl, as if he was working far too hard to keep all his agony within. Jaz watched all the color drain from his face, and for a moment, she panicked that he was going to pass out.

But he didn't. His head lolled, and he breathed even harder than before, limbs still shaking from adrenaline. But he didn't pass out. Somehow, he stayed awake.

In an instant, she could feel all of Adam's fight fade, and his body just seemed to sag. The angry strength disappeared, replaced instead by a weary, pleading pain.

This was worse than before. This was _so much_ worse.

"Top?" she asked anxiously, watching his tired guise age several years.

He just shook his head, having no strength for anything else.

She gripped him tighter, determined to stay strong.

McG steeled himself for the long journey ahead, ensuring his hold was firm and steady. "Okay, Top, you just focus on moving that right leg. I'll take care of the left."

"You've got this," Jaz crooned, taking a step to help Adam along. He took a step, trying to push himself onward. But she could feel just how feeble he was. He had nothing left to give, and yet, he still pushed.

Slowly, she helped him take each careful step as McG fully supported Adam's left side as a human crutch. As they trekked up the slope to the fork, Adam kept grunting in pain, his white teeth bared as he did his best to get through each jolt of pain from every tiny stride.

His head could barely keep itself up, and his muscles now shook more from exhaustion than adrenaline, shivering against his teammates' support.

And it had taken them forty-five minutes to get up the mountain at a relatively fast pace.

Without thinking too much about it, Jaz shifted her hand from Adam's wrist to his hand, trying to offer what silent support she could. His fingers tightened around hers, but they weren't nearly as strong as she hoped. For the hundredth time, she wondered how they were going to get him back to safety.

"Take your time," she muttered, hoping he didn't feel like he had to hurry for _them_. Because if it took all day—if he could keep going all day—it wouldn't even faze her.

As the chilling, howling wind whipped around them, she could still hear his harsh, weary breaths. Air scraped out of his lungs with ferocity, trying to keep up with the demand for oxygen. Every breath split the air, punctuating the empty, deserted sounds of the mountainside.

And for as long as she'd live, Jaz would never forget that sound.

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Amir managed to get Preach to the fork, helping the larger man balance as the two of them stumbled over stones and uneven rock. He was relieved that Preach had come to at least some of his senses—even if it was only enough for Preach to mostly walk on his own.

"You good, Preach?"

Preach swallowed, frowning a little as closed his eyes. "Good enough."

Amir brought them to a stop, looking down the other side of the fork.

And he promptly froze.

Jaz and McG were slowly making their way up the incline, a battered Top between them. And the very sight of Top sent a buzz of horror down Amir's spine.

Nothing could've prepared him for the image. He'd known it was bad, but he'd somehow managed to distract himself from the very real terror of it all by focusing on Preach.

But actually _seeing _it now. It made it _real_. Undeniable_._

Adam was white as a sheet, stiffly wedged between McG and Jaz. His hands shook slightly, and his right side and thigh were smeared generously with blood. His leg and arm were splinted, and bruises marred the side of his face and what was visible of one hand. Amir winced to think what was hidden under Adam's fatigues.

The worst of it, though, was Adam's expression. His brows were pulled up in pain and exhaustion, and his features were tight and lined with agony. Somehow, he looked so unwholly like Adam Dalton, Amir wondered briefly if he was truly looking at his team leader.

"How's he doing?" Amir asked quietly as his teammates approached. McG just offered a small shake of his head, his jaw tight as he carefully supported Adam over uneven paths.

Being so near, Amir could now hear Adam's small noises of pain as they traversed the mountainside trail. Amir felt sick.

"Let's get the hell out of here," McG huffed, sparing Preach a good look. "You're looking better."

Preach nodded beside Amir, swaying some as he leaned on his smaller teammate. "Not quite 100%, but I'll make it," he muttered quietly, giving an uneasy glance at Adam. "Let's just . . . get him out of here."  
"Agreed," Jaz grumbled.

With some difficulty, McG and Jaz guided Adam past their other teammates. As they struggled over a particularly rocky outcropping, the foot of Adam's bad leg scuffed a stone, eliciting a sharp cry from the blond. McG acted quickly, trying to raise Adam's injured side a little higher, sparking another yell of agony.

The team stiffened, feeling his pain.

This was going to be a long journey.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Hello, hello! In the midst of all the chaos, I hope everyone's okay. For those of you staying indoors indefinitely, I hope you're not feeling too isolated. And for those of you who must go out for work or other reasons, I hope you're healthy and feel safe despite it all. All I hope for you all is that you're healthy and happy!_

_I've got another chapter for ya, with quite a bit of whump for our fearless leader. So I hope you enjoy and that it brings a little happiness in these troubling times! As always, thanks for reading and sticking with it. :) (And I wouldn't mind a review to let me know how I'm doing, but it certainly is not required. You do you.)_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Jaz relied on every ounce of her rigorous training as they made it down the trail. Adam weighed heavily on her left side, the fingers of her right hand curled loosely around his. Gusts rushed at her back, wailing in her ears and scraping at her skin. This was hellish. Unfair, even.

She briefly thought about how many hours and days of training she'd done to prepare for scenarios like this. They'd never been even close to this. There was never that panic that a teammate—a friend—would fade away before they could get help. There was never the terror of wondering if you were strong enough to support your injured _family _to safety.

And there was never any terrain as cruel and unforgiving as this.

Shivering against the chilling wind, she glanced at Adam, wincing at his pained expression. He was huffing desperately, currently squeezing his eyes shut to draw what little strength he had left.

She didn't know how long he'd last. And looking at McG, he had the same worries. Adam was getting heavier and heavier, and McG was working harder to carefully pull Adam's injured leg higher, keeping his foot from scraping the floor.

But honestly, Adam was losing energy fast.

"How you doing, buddy? You okay?" McG asked, keeping his voice relaxed and friendly. Jaz admired his efforts.

Adam didn't answer, his head starting to droop as he breathed against his agony.

"Do you need a break?" Jaz offered, despite how dangerous the idea was. If they set him down to rest, could they get going again?

Adam managed to shake his head, his brow furrowed at the idea.

Even after all this, he was so stubborn.

As if to make a point, Adam found some small reserve of strength, lifting his head and pulling some of his weight back from Jaz.

She frowned.

At this rate, he was going drive himself into the ground.

"Don't push it, okay? We've got you," Jaz reminded him quietly.

Adam's lips pressed into a tight line: a sign of his resolve.

With a huff, Jaz refocused her energy on supporting him. Adam's tenacity rivaled even her own. And for a team like theirs, that was a feat.

If he had the capacity to speak, he'd probably tell them to leave him behind.

Because that was who Adam was, wasn't it?

Jaz fell back into silence, painfully listening to Adam's grunts and growls of pain as he forced himself onward. They steadily made their way down the trail, slow and careful. On Adam's other side, McG was sweating as he dutifully carried the greater weight with a practiced care. Behind them, Amir helped Preach down the rocky path, the two of them zigzagging a little as Preach swayed dizzily.

They were a mess.

They came on a simple mission and got thrashed.

Jaz sighed. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. Going by the daylight, it'd been maybe an hour, and they weren't all that far down from where they started.

Staying quiet, Jaz stuck with her task, trying not to think about precious time slipping by, through their fingers, draining Adam of life with every grain of sand.

And for the most part, it worked. Time seemed to move a little faster as they picked their way through the terrain. The sun moved further toward the west, beginning to dip heavily toward the horizon.

Once it hid behind the curve of the mountain, leaving them in the shadows under an orange and purple sky, Jaz snapped back to attention. A new question nagged at her mind.

What if they didn't make it down by sundown?

She knew enough about the area to know that temperatures dropped in the evenings. It could be hard on Adam, and since she and McG no longer had their jackets, it could make it more difficult to care for him if something happened.

Jaz found herself pleading the sun to set slower.

"Does he feel warm to you?"

McG's question came from nowhere, startling Jaz. But as she took more notice, she realized she wasn't shivering quite as much against the wind. And Adam was warmer. She could feel the heat through his own jacket.

She gave him a good look.

Any drive he had before was completely gone, and he was swiftly fading, head lolling against his chest as his eyelids drooped.

She hadn't even realized how heavy he'd become, being so focused on getting him the hell off the hateful mountain.

"Yeah," she answered, already looking for clues in McG's expression.

The medic nodded, his features tight with worry. "Let's take a break and set him down."

Obediently, she came to a halt, maneuvering Adam to safely lower him to the ground.

"What's going on?" Amir called over the wind, he and Preach wandering a little closer.

McG frowned, releasing his hold on Adam only when he was sure the blond wouldn't topple over where he sat. "He's feeling kind of warm."

Amir seemed to stand taller, his posture tense. Preach could only still beside him, immediately understanding the gravity of the situation.

The team watched as McG went to work, carefully unwinding the bloody gauze from around Adam's belly. They were all anxious, hoping it wasn't what they thought it was.

Finally uncovering the final square of gauze, McG peeled the crimson-stained patch away, pausing as he inspected the wound. His shoulders sagged as he shook his head, reaching for his pack.

"So?" Jaz asked, moving closer to see Adam's wound in the shadows of the mountain.

McG's answer was curt. Strained. "Infected."

"Shit," Jaz hissed, standing upright again, though still eyeing Adam's wound.

"You with me, Top? Top?" McG coaxed, tapping Adam's face lightly as he continued to dig through his supplies. Even in the darkening shadows, Jaz could see blood ooze from Adam's abdominal wound.

They just couldn't catch a break.

"Top?" McG tried again, already setting to removing the packing in the wound. The rest of the team remained stoic as they watched the medic pull bloody dressing out of Adam's wounded abdomen. Is was unnerving just to see the sopping bandages as McG tossed them to the side.

With care, McG cleaned the wound, taking a closer look to ensure he didn't miss any larger debris.

Then he was packing it again, with such swift, well-practiced care that the rest of the team didn't want to think about how often McG had gone through this.

"Come on, buddy. Gotta know if you're still with me," McG urged, swiftly wrapping he wound again before setting a hand against Adam's too-warm neck to check his temperature. "He's burning up," he muttered, leaving a bloody handprint on Adam's neck as moved to unwrap Adam's thigh.

Amir watched McG's hands work, wondering just how long McG had been in the thick of it. The way he seemed to move past the red staining his fingers, the red smearing Adam's clothes . . . Amir vaguely wondered how much violence McG had seen up close.

"Damn it," McG mumbled, quickly working to clean the second rip in Adam's flesh.

Adam was completely out now, leaving only an unconscious shell behind, pieced and patched together like a ragdoll. His slack face strangely looked both older than his years and so incredibly young at the same.

Amir flicked his gaze to the ground.

With how Adam carried himself, it was easy to see him as a powerful, strong figure. A true leader. A protector.

Right now, all of that was absent, reminding them of what Adam really was behind the strength, confidence, and courage: a young, vulnerable human being.

"How are we going to get him down now?" Jaz questioned as she hugged herself for warmth.

McG looked her, then the darkening sky, then back at Adam. The cogs in his head spun, clicking out a solution.

If Adam were coherent, he'd weigh all the variables and make a firm decision in a reasonable time frame. He was excellent at coming up with a good plan in the roughest of moments.

They hadn't realized how much they relied on him to take that burden.

But now, McG just had to return the favor.

"I'll carry him," he decided, continuing clean and wrap Adam's thigh.

Jaz frowned. "But you said—"

"I know what I said. But with him unconscious, I don't think we have to worry about lessening his pain. And we don't have a lot of time before nightfall, and I'd rather not carry him over these damn rocks in the dark," McG answered hotly, staying focused on his work.

_And it's going to get cold_.

He looked at Jaz. At her bare arms.

They had to get to evac before it got too dark. And too cold.

"Amir. Jaz. I'll need your help getting him over my shoulders. I don't want to mess up his ribs any more than they are."

As McG finished wrapping Adam's leg, Amir helped Preach take a seat on a small boulder, stretching out a bit to prepare.

The medic carefully inspected his handywork, taking another look at Adam's face to make sure he hadn't awoken. "He needs to be positioned so most of the pressure is on his right side. Should hurt less and cause less damage."

Amir and Jaz nodded in understanding, approaching as McG got crouched down to receive the blond's slack body. Carefully, the smaller team members maneuvered Adam, gingerly pulling him to McG as the medic reached out to take hold.

"I got 'im," he huffed, slowly rising with Adam mostly draped over one shoulder and partially over the other. He grasped Adam's right leg and right arm, pulling them together as he bowed his back to support the majority of Adam's weight.

"Let's go," he grunted, taking quick but careful steps down the path. He only hoped the jostling wouldn't be too hard on Adam's fall-beaten body.

As he and the team cautiously picked their way down the mountain, McG worried more and more about Adam's fever. The heat had quickly soaked through his shirt, burning against his shoulders and back, a stark contrast against the chilly evening gusts.

If the blood loss wasn't bad enough, now Adam had to deal with a raging infection. The situation was desperate now, and McG could do very little to improve it. So even if carrying Adam worsened his ribs or other injuries, McG was willing to take that risk just to get some antibiotics. And he'd have to go fast.

In this kind of situation, there was no win. Just the lesser loss.

And this would give them the lesser loss.

"How much further do you think we have?" Amir called out, again supporting Preach.

McG wanted to answer, but he couldn't find the breath. Lifting a fully grown, fit man over a tough, uneven terrain proved to be more difficult than he suspected. But he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

"I think we're a little past halfway," Jaz answered, hovering close by. McG was grateful for it. He didn't exactly want to be left on his own to do this, even if his teammates were still behind him.

It just felt nice to know Jaz was beside him every step of the way.

"He looks terrible," Jaz commented, just loud enough for McG to hear. "The bruises are starting to darken."

McG's expression tightened into worried lines. He'd already seen the developing bruises on Adam's left side. But in a handful of hours, they'd probably be a deep shade of dark purple, standing witness to the trauma Adam's body had gone through.

And even though the visual was awful enough, McG knew the pain would be even worse. Bruising that deep stung and ached, even without any movement.

Adam would be in _agony _for days. Even with decent painkillers, the ache would still nibble at him day and night.

McG pressed onward, watching the sun slowly drift through the sky, close to kissing the horizon. Time was practically running by, and the trail seemed never-ending as the elevation dipped gradually. He was starting to get tired, and he could feel sticky sweat between him and his overly warm team leader.

He just had to keep going. They just had to get Adam to evac.

The sun began to set, slipping behind the mountains and pulling the light with it. Blue made way for pinks and purples, the clouds painted by the fading light.

Then there was movement, weakly wreathing on McG's shoulders. Even over the wind, McG could hear the unmistakable sound of pained, feeble whimpers.

Adam was awake. Feeling every step in agonizing detail.

"Jaz," was all McG could huff, pressing a plea for help into her name. She reacted quickly, looking over to take stock of the situation.

"Top. Top, you've got to calm down," she reasoned, her voice low and even. "I know it hurts, but we've got to get you to evac."

Jaz came forward a little to get closer to McG. "He's not breathing very well."

McG's panic spiked as he slowed to a stop. He listened, but he could only hear the wind. "What . . . what does it sound like?"

Hell, what if his hurrying jostled Adam's cracked and broken ribs? What if one punctured his lung?

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jaz's fist clench, white knuckles peeking through her skin. "Whistling." Her lips pressed into a flat line, a look of knowing behind it.

"Help me get him down," McG ordered urgently, already moving to lower Adam.

Jaz moved quickly, hands frantically grasping Adam to guide him safely to the ground.

Once they had him laying down, McG leaned it to listen intently to his breathing.

Whistling and wheezing. Just like Jaz said.

"Damn it," he bit out, reaching hastily for his supplies. "Punctured lung."

"What?" Jaz paled.

McG was curt. Focused. "I'm going to have to cut him. To release the pressure."

"What?"

Jaz stared with wide eyes as McG pulled out a disposable scalpel.

_A disposable scalpel._

Would it never end?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Adam could only grasp at spare colors and sounds, muddled by waves of angry, varying degrees of pain and a bone-deep chill. His ribs throbbed and his arm and leg ached sharply. Spikes of pain continuously stabbed at his stomach. A stinging hot line ran down his thigh. And all of it was wrapped uncomfortably in a dizzying cold.

He tried to push through it all, but all he could reach were flashes of fading, dark colors and snippets of familiar voices.

"Stay w. . . me . . . hurt p. . . buddy. . ."

Adam squinted against the swirl of colors and intermittent sounds, his chest burning. He couldn't breathe. How long had he struggled to breathe?

He tried harder, sucking in what he could, but failed miserably. His chest burned hotter, his other pains spiking as he squirmed against the struggle.

"Gotta . . . calm . . ." McG. McG was trying to help him.

He tried to tame his panicked writhing, and he felt small hands carefully holding down his wrists, waking a deeper ache in his forearm as he struggled against the increasing pressure in his chest. Gasping thinly, he tried to focus on the darkening violet above him, but everything was watered down and blurred.

He just wanted to _breathe_. Black spots dotted the smear of color in front of him.

_He just wanted to breathe_.

Something pressed between his ribs.

Then a spike of white-hot, _shrieking_ agony burstthrough his chest.

And with no breath, he couldn't scream. He could only clench his teeth as every muscle tightened in his body.

The spike faded, but the thin line of furious pain remained, clawing at his already aching ribs.

Just when he thought the worst was over, something was hastily shoved through the fresh sting, sparking new torture.

But then he could breathe. _He could finally breathe_.

"Top? . . . okay?"

Was he okay? He couldn't tell.

With newfound oxygen, he groaned, low and pathetic. All the aches and chills flooded back, ravaging his body. He _hurt_. Everywhere. All over.

He couldn't even move.

He couldn't even get ahold of his surroundings.

And the cold bit into his skin, burrowing into his muscles and seeping into the core of his bones.

"Cold," he slurred, unable to manage much else. Sounds were starting to come in clearer now, but his vision still swirled and ran together, creating a disorienting blend of dots and pigments.

"You've g. . . fever . . ."

Fever?

He frowned, his features pinching together in pained confusion. The new slice of agony between his ribs was making it hard to think, grouping up with everything else.

Honestly, how was he even alive?

Every time he took a breath, his ribs shifted unnaturally and sent more pain through his body. Every time he moved, his left side would scream from head to toe.

He'd never felt more brittle and broken.

Cold hands touched his face, softly tapping his cheek to get his attention.

He forced his eyes to look around, trying to find something to focus on.

His gaze found a familiar shape. A familiar line of braided hair.

"Jaz?" he muttered, squinting as he painfully pulled in half a lungful of air.

"Hey, Top."

She still sounded muffled, but at least he could mostly hear what she was saying.

"Hold tight. We still . . . ways to go."

What? Ways to go?

He tried to cling to her words, to understand them. But it seemed like his own brain was getting in his way, overwhelmed by pain signals to comprehend anything else.

And all he could remember after waking up were jolts of agony, lots of dizzying movement, and then the solid ground beneath him.

He couldn't even place when he'd first woken up.

Or why.

He couldn't even really form the question in his mind.

Adam was starting to grow weary again, his body wailing for rest. But he didn't want to give in. He wanted to be here. With his team.

"Top? Damn . . . burning up . . ."

He shivered, chills rippling through his body, ramping up the constant throbs and aches on his left side. And still, the tired tug of unconsciousness pulled at him. He fought against it with everything he had.

"Help . . . lift . . ."

Adam just wanted to be present enough to hear his team. To be a part of what they were going through. But too much was pressing against him, pushing him down. Drowning him.

Then hands urgently grabbed and lifted his shoulders and legs.

Spears of screaming pain flashed through him. He could hear himself cry out against the agony.

The darkness pressed harder, crushing him.

And with no more strength to fight, he fell into the warm arms of unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Heyooo. Thanks for your patience with this chapter, e'erybody. I hope you're all doing well, and I hope you're all able to take some time for yourself in these troubling times._

_Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and I'll get cracking on the next one._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

It was getting dark. The violet sky was growing darker, barely kissed by remnants of sun. In only minutes, it would be night. Pitch black.

They couldn't even tell how far they had left.

But McG was going as fast as he could.

Adam's body was slack against him, feverish and completely unconscious. But between the blood loss, the trauma, and the infection, it was a miracle Adam was even as conscious as he was for even a moment.

Even if it was a collapsed lung that had woken him.

Jaz hastily walked beside McG, trying to affix a headlamp to her forehead to light the way. Cooling air nipped at her arms, a sign of the chill to come. Amir and Preach trailed behind them, but they already had a silent understanding that getting Adam to evac was top priority. Amir and Preach would simply catch up when they could.

Jaz looked over at Adam, catching his sickly features. She tore her gaze away, trying to instead focus on illuminating McG's path.

But hell, Adam looked frailer than he had since he fell, and considering how he looked right after the fall . . .

She couldn't think about it.

She was already overwhelmed from watching McG push a chest tube into their team leader just to get the man to _breathe_.

After the initial incision, Adam faded in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay with them. He kept clinging to the cognizance he had, like a child who didn't want to fall asleep just yet.

And she'd been next to him as McG secured the chest tube and attached some contraption and a bag to the tube. She was there until McG had taped the whole thing against Adam's side and thoroughly inspected the setup.

And she'd seen the horrid mix of air and blood drain steadily into the bag.

Just in the span of a couple hours, he'd fallen from a cliff, been stuffed with gauze, bandaged, splinted, suffocated, cut, poked with tubes . . .

How much more could he take?

She thought about all those times Adam had put himself in danger to protect them. The broken ribs. The shots to the chest plate. The threats of explosives. Time and time again, he'd stand at the front and be punished for it.

This was the worst of them all.

She'd seen the way he'd struggled with his attacker on the cliffside. And she'd seen the way he tried to break free. Tried to turn away to expose his vulnerable side.

To help them.

It was that insane need to protect his team that got him in this mess.

Jaz felt the familiar burn of unshed tears in her eyes, and she tried desperately to blink them back in the dark as she shivered against the cold. This wasn't the time for crying. Their leader was down, so they all had to step up.

Adjusting her headlamp to better illuminate the path, Jaz tried to resist the urge to look at Adam again. McG needed her headlamp, and seeing Adam right now wouldn't bring any comfort.

But damn, it was getting cold. She just had to try and ignore it.

Beside her, the medic huffed, pushing himself to his max. Jaz could almost feel how tired he was, still reeling from all the chaos as he shouldered Adam back down the mountain.

"You okay?"

From the corner of her eye, she could see McG tense at her question. Like he hadn't expected it. Like he'd hoped it would never be asked.

"Gotta be," he huffed, not losing his stride as they continued down the rocky trail. His answer spoke volumes. But he was literally carrying a man's life on his shoulders. He had to be under immense pressure—all while dealing with a debilitating fear for his CO. His friend.

And if they were being realistic, reaching evac wouldn't solve all their problems. It would just mean Adam had a chance at better-equipped medical help.

"I've gotta stop. Just for a bit," McG breathed, slowing as he collected himself. "Check on Top for me."

Obediently, Jaz moved to look Adam over, hands reaching out to touch his face, unsurprised to feel fevered heat radiating off his skin. He looked so young and so . . . colorless. Adam had never looked more tired and helpless in all the time she'd known him. Somehow, it made him seem smaller. Defenseless. Like something she had to fiercely protect.

"Can you check the bag?"

Jaz winced at the question. She didn't want to check the bag. She didn't want to look at the blood that would inevitably be there, draining out of his chest. _More _blood. As if this whole ordeal hadn't already had its fill.

"Yeah."

She moved to gently pull up Adam's shirt, clenching and unclenching her jaw as the shivers started to set in. Maybe from the cold. Maybe from the dread. No way to tell. She laid eyes on the drainage bag and just stared. Stared at the collected crimson liquid.

And another drop dripped into what was already there.

"Is it full?"

She swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat, unable to tear her eyes away. "No. Not quite."

A relieved sigh rushed out of McG, and it gave Jaz the smallest spark of optimism.

If that was all they had to cling to, then she would take it. She'd take anything.

"Okay, let's keep going," McG muttered, trying to get a better hold on Adam without jostling him too much.

Once Jaz illuminated the path again, he started walking, pushing with an admirable determination.

Jaz had seen McG serious before—bad injuries called for somber focus. But this was different. It was so far into the depths of McG that it felt foreign and strange.

And yet, weirdly familiar.

They journeyed on, startled by a few close falls over loose rocks. Stars glittered above them, trying uselessly to contribute a little reverent peace. And temperatures continued to steadily drop, numbing Jaz's arms and seeping through her clothing.

The wind had begun to die down, and Jaz took a moment to just listen. For anything.

_"Jaz, you're about three-hundred yards from evac."_

Jaz started at Noah's voice, almost forgetting about their DC team on the other side. They'd been so caught up in the hellish situation, the rest of the world just seemed to disappear. And it didn't help that DC only got involved when they had to in a situation like this.

"Copy that," she replied, tamping down the giddy flicker of hope in her chest. McG immediately picked up his pace, determined to get to that chopper at the bottom of the mountain.

She couldn't blame him.

In minutes, they could feel softer dirt under their feet. They were there. They'd gotten off the mountain.

As they pressed on, tufts of brush and wild grass scraped against their legs and boots, dotting the landscape weakly. They were on the final stretch. They'd almost made it. And hopefully, Amir and Preach weren't too far behind.

_Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Thwap._

Jaz stood taller at the sound of hastening chopper blades. Finally. _Finally_.

"Amir? How far back are you?" she asked breathlessly into her comm, just as the light of her headlamp caught the shining metal of a military bird.

_"Not far. Maybe five minutes," _Amir huffed. _"Are you at evac?"_

All Jaz could manage was a simple, quiet, "Yes."

Strangely, she could _feel _the relief in the comm silence. Adam just had to hold on for another two hours in flight. Then they could get him real help.

As they approached, hands reached to receive Adam. To bring him on board. It was the co-pilot; Jaz remembered now.

She stepped in to help where she could, reverently taking Adam off McG's shoulders. As soon as the blond was situated on board, McG just seemed to melt against the helicopter, leaning heavily on the edge of the doorway.

He'd given almost everything he had. He was spent.

But Jaz knew he'd do it again if he had to.

And with only a centering breath, the medic straightened and hiked inside, again focusing on his charge.

Jaz didn't know how she'd ever thank him.

She remembered how gently he treated her wounds in Tehran. Everything hurt, including her pride. Her strength. Her stability. She was fragile. A little broken. And he'd given her such focused attention. Such genuine smiles. Even a comforting hand disguised as friendly squeezes to her shoulder, her arm.

McG's commitment to take care of his teammates was almost as fierce as Adam's determination to protect them. Two sides of the same coin.

Jaz allowed herself a smile. One of fond appreciation.

The moment passing, she refocused on the task at hand. "Need help?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Amir couldn't stop checking his watch. Then looking at McG. Then Adam.

Then back to his watch.

They'd been in the air for an hour and forty-eight minutes. And still, it seemed like it had been an eternity.

McG had been staring at the drainage bag nestled against Adam's side, watching the steady drip of blood against the plastic. The grim line of his lips did nothing to soothe Amir's panicked, raging mind. It took all of the ex-spy's willpower to tamp down the misplaced frustration echoing through his body.

He looked at Adam again.

Had Top always looked so pale?

Back at his watch. Another minute had managed to inch by.

Glancing around, Amir caught his gaze on Adam's leg. Bloody and splinted, it served as gruesome, blunt reminder of their time on that damn mountain.

Amir rubbed anxiously at his eyes, easily disguising it as casual weariness to avoid his teammates' attention. His arm throbbed, a mild annoyance in the sea of everything else. McG had tried to check on the bullet graze after takeoff, but Amir wouldn't allow it. Adam needed the medic more.

So Amir checked it himself. If only to make McG feel better.

As Amir took another look at his watch, the helicopter shifted, making a clear descent.

And the ex-spy suddenly found himself holding his breath, both dreading and praying for the landing.

What if, after everything, Adam was too far gone?

What if they only delayed the inevitable?

Unwelcome questions pressed against the front of his mind, adding to an already wild mix of feelings.

He hated this.

Shifting his gaze, he locked eyes with Jaz, the two of them sharing similar fears in just one look.

They stayed that way for the entire descent, staring at each other. Trying to find comfort in identical feelings.

As soon as they touched down, medics practically flooded the space, taking Adam's limp body. Rushing him away. To a hospital. To better prepared help.

And in the wake of the flurry sat his exhausted, silent team.

Unsure what to do with their empty hands.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Oofta, thanks for your patience on these chapters, peeps. It's been a wild time in the world, hasn't it? And to make up for the delay, I worked hard to crank out the final two chapters. As always, I hope I did the ending justice, and thank you for sparing a moment for this little story._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

How long had it been?

Jaz stared at the white wall of the military hospital. Her thoughts rolled in the same circles over and over again, creating swirling and crashing waves of anxiety and impatience. Clinging to some semblance of calm, she focused on the steady beat of the heartrate monitor.

And she determinedly ignored the temperature reading on the screen beside her.

Breathing in slowly and deeply, she glanced at the bag of antibiotics near her, willing them to work faster.

It didn't help that she was here alone.

After the worry-fed adrenaline had worn off, Preach deteriorated into a dizzy, disoriented lump of a person. It hadn't really come to light until after Adam had been taken away. When they were left behind in the helicopter.

To keep an eye on his condition, Preach was admitted, but they didn't have a large enough space available to put him and Adam in the same room, meaning the team had to split themselves between the two ends of the essentials-only hospital.

So right now, McG was with Preach. And Amir was getting some proper rest after some careful stitching and bandaging.

Leaving Jaz here. Alone.

Waiting.

The doctor told them Adam should make a full recovery once the infection runs its course, assuming everything goes well. But that was after hours of surgery. After his broken limbs had been plastered.

After they'd forced blood back into his body.

It was a long night, especially with Preach looking at a bad head injury. And they didn't know the details about Preach's condition until an hour after their arrival. Fortunately, it hadn't been too serious. With careful observation and rest, Preach would be fine. At least there was one win for their corner. But they wouldn't relax until Adam proved he was on the road to recovery.

Honestly, Jaz was surprised they were allowed to be with Adam at all, given his condition. But they'd promised to stay out of the nurses' way and were easily permitted entry to his room. Now, they just had to be patient. It wasn't easy.

Jaz continued to stare at the wall. She was happy to be here with him; it relieved some of her stress to have eyes on him again. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

Because, hell, this wasn't _right_.

She glanced at him, quickly looking away again. But the image was seared into her mind already, and every simple look in his direction seemed to brand it deeper into her brain.

The bruising was really darkening now, standing as bold blooms of ink against his skin. With Adam in a hospital gown, she could see even more of the damage. Bruises burned up his arm and onto his shoulder, some of the battered skin covered by his new cast. There was even a spot of purpling pinches along his jawline.

With all that and a sickly pallor, Adam looked awful. Helpless. Terrifyingly defenseless.

Searching for something to ground her, she eyed his hand, tracing the delicate bruising on his fingers. Carefully, she took his hand with her own, selfishly gleaning the comfort of his warmth.

The doctor said Adam would need a lot of help during those many weeks of recovery. With broken ribs and a broken leg, he'd be almost completely unable to move on his own. To avoid jostling his ribs, the doc recommended a wheelchair over crutches, and Jaz just couldn't accept the possibility. Adam always walked out of a tight situation on his own two feet, no matter what. She hated the very idea that he couldn't this time around.

But it couldn't be helped.

She, McG, and Amir had already tentatively discussed parking Adam on the team couch during the day, only helping him to bed at the end of the day or to the bathroom. He would probably complain. She _hoped _he'd complain. Then she'd know he was feeling more like himself.

Jaz eyed the bandaging around his head, covering the gash on the back of his skull.

The trauma he'd been through . . .

She thought back to when he'd first woken up on that damn mountain, a little out of it but there enough to be stubborn and determined. But then it quickly faded. And at the end, it didn't seem like there was much of Adam Dalton left.

Chasing away the memories, she sighed, again staring at the wall.

Then the steady beeping picked up.

Alarmed, she looked at the heart rate monitor, already fearing the worst.

Adam let out a low, quiet groan and stirred slightly.

She froze, immediately holding her breath as she watched anxiously. For a moment, she thought about pulling her hand from his, but she didn't want to move.

"Top?" she muttered, afraid of disrupting the moment. Jaz watched his eyes, waiting for them to open.

And they did.

Adam seemed to struggle to pry them open even a little, and in them, Jaz could see the pain and confusion behind a feverish fog.

"Top? You with me?"

She dared to tighten her hold on his hand, hoping it would offer him some comfort. While the warmth of his fingers proved that he was alive, it was still an unhealthy heat, burning wildly under Adam's skin as infection and fever ravaged his system. Pressing against his brain. Robbing him of his usually acute awareness.

His face pinched painfully, void of his usual friendly demeanor. Of his sharp wit. Jaz tightened her hand on his, ignoring the uneasiness in her chest.

Adam began to breathe more heavily, each intake of breath tight and pained.

"Top, calm down."

The words felt unnatural in her mouth. Normally, it was Adam telling _her_ to calm down—usually to quell her anger.

"You've got to slow your breathing," she urged, standing from her seat. She stood over him and placed her free hand on his bicep, hoping her stable presence could give him something to focus on. "Panicking will just make it hurt more."

Panicking? Was he panicking? Had Adam Dalton ever panicked in his life?

She paused, staring into those fevered, agonized eyes.

Yes. In Tehran. When he was trying to stop her abduction. She'd seen his face as her captors drove past. Even through the dirty glass of the vehicle he'd slipped into, she could see the terror. The panic. The striking realization that he'd failed her.

Pursing her lips to tamp down her emotions she bravely moved her hand to his sternum, letting it rest softly against his chest. "Just breathe, Top. In. Out. In. Out."

Obediently, he followed her rhythm, somehow finding her voice through the cottony swaths of his fever. His breathing slowed. His fear subsided. Reluctantly, Jaz removed her hand from his chest, watching him carefully.

"You're in the hospital, Top. You're safe. We're safe."

Damn, he looked so young. Lost, even.

Adam closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as the aches and pains echoed through his body. Jaz hated this. Hated that she to be here alone with a disoriented Top. It unnerved her. Worried her.

She sat down again, keeping a firm hold on his hand. His fingers tried to squeeze hers but there was no real strength behind his grip. Jaz's chest ached.

Yes, Adam was her CO. But he was also a friend. Family, even. Seeing just how weak he was, it strangely hurt. And knowing he'd have no choice but to rely on the strength of his teammates . . . that added salt to the wound. Right now, he couldn't even _move _by himself.

And as quickly as consciousness had come, it left. Adam drifted back under, his tense body loosening as it gave back in to rest.

Relief washed over Jaz. She realized that she'd rather wait anxiously then see Adam in so much pain and confusion.

Pursing her lips and tightening the rein on her emotions, she leaned forward, resting an elbow on the thin mattress.

She just wanted everything to go back to normal.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was eerie in here. Not that McG hadn't had his share of hospital visits. But the solid silence punctuated by the steady beeping seemed to dig under his skin, clawing at already fraying nerves. At the shift change, he could see Jaz's hidden distress—the subtle lines in her face and the furtive glances around the room.

And in her report of Adam's brief trip to consciousness, he could hear the unspoken worry and sorrow.

This just all around sucked.

He was so tired. He was emotionally and physically spent, dragging himself from task to task. But he couldn't stop. He _wouldn't _stop. He had to make sure everyone was okay. Especially Adam.

McG's shoulders ached from the trek down the mountain, and he wondered if all his efforts made this so much harder. He'd invested sweat and energy into Adam's care. He'd given this more than just his all. And maybe that's why it felt like Adam _should _fully recover. Because McG had done so much to ensure it.

But when he thought about it long enough, he couldn't hide the pained, sympathetic winces and phantom aches in his ribs. A body hitting the ground from that height . . . gravity did its damage efficiently. Add knife injuries and you have a recipe for disaster.

Why couldn't this have been easy?

To be fair, most ops were. Adam had a knack for coming up with effective plans that paired nicely with their skill sets. Generally, the fallout was surprisingly small, if there at all.

But McG was bitter. He wanted to be. Bitter toward the twist of fate. Bitter toward Adam's misfortune this time around.

He sighed in the dim light of the room, settling uncomfortably in the cheap chair. Jaz was hopefully asleep right now, and Amir was with Preach. He should feel more at ease than this, but he didn't. He was worried about Adam—and he was worried about the rest of his teammates.

How did Adam carry this weight all the time?

Sitting here, McG realized that he relied on Adam's word and emotional strength more than he thought. If Adam said something was fine, it was. And even when shit hit the fan, McG felt better knowing that Adam was at the helm.

But he wasn't at the helm now. And he wasn't even well enough to tell them everything would be fine.

Logically, McG should trust his own instincts and knowledge. He should lean on the doctors and the nurses to second his thoughts.

But somehow, that wasn't enough.

He swiped a hand over his face. He knew that, right now, the team was looking to him for hope and strength. With Adam down and Preach out, the job fell to him. This was his domain. He was the medic.

And hell, the responsibility was far too heavy for his shoulders.

Maybe it was because he didn't have much practice. Adam had a lot of experience standing strong for the team. Actually, he was a natural. Like he'd done it far too many times before.

McG frowned. He'd never really thought about what their lives were before serving. They shared glimpses every now and then, but not much. And Adam hardly ever spoke about his past. At least, nothing past a shallow layer of information.

For a moment, McG wondered who Adam had to shoulder burdens for before the army. Before the DIA. Because he was just _so damn good at it. _Even when Adam was worried, he _inspired _them to stay strong. He made them believe that if they worked hard enough and toughed it out, it would turn out okay.

Adam must've had a lot of practice. That would explain a lot.

McG inhaled deeply, resting his head on the back of the chair. This quiet was dangerous. It made his mind drift into uncomfortable territory.

From the corner of his eye, McG saw movement. Spurred into action, he sat up straight, leaning a little toward Adam.

He was waking up again.

McG could easily track when Adam was stopped by pain, his slow shifts pausing every now and then to reroute. And from the look of things, Adam hurt. Everywhere.

The medic waited patiently, letting Adam slowly find his way into the light. Finally—_finally_—his eyes opened, murky blue gazing up at the ceiling.

"Hey, Top. Long time no see," McG joked, slipping on a carefree mask.

Adam blinked harshly, his features pinching uncomfortably. "Wh'happ'n'd?"

McG grimaced. "You took a tumble." He didn't really want to say much more than that.

But he didn't have to.

He could mark the instant Adam remembered. His breath quickened. His eyes squeezed shut. The very moment seemed to ramp up his pain.

"Hey, hey. Take it easy," McG urged, quickly taking hold of Adam's wrist. "You're fine now. You're in a hospital."

Adam worked hard to get his discomfort under control, breathing carefully as he compartmentalized the pain. "How's ev'ryone else?"

McG swallowed a sigh. "They're good. Jaz is fine. Amir got a little bullet graze to his arm, but he's okay. And Preach took a blow to the head, but the doc says he'll be alright. They're fine. Everyone's fine."

Adam closed his eyes, internalizing McG's report.

"We're more worried about you," McG added, trying to keep his expression light. "You're going to be out of commission for a while."

Surprisingly, Adam simply offered a small nod. "Not s'prised." From the way he spoke, McG could tell he was struggling past the aches that assaulted every inch of him. And understandably, every breath seemed to add another spike of discomfort. "Wh't's th' dam'ge?"

McG huffed, the fake smirk slipping from his face. This was hard. He didn't have the energy for this.

"You've got a broken arm. Broken leg. Broken ribs." McG paused, pursing his lips before he continued. "Stab wound. Laceration. Mild head injury. Punctured lung."

"Damn," Adam croaked.

McG managed a smile at the man's response. "Yeah, I think this is a new record for you."

"Wh'n c'n I leave?"

Stifling the urge to yell at his CO, McG simply cleared his throat. "Seriously, Top?"

"D'n't like h'spitals."

"No one likes hospitals. That doesn't mean you get a free pass."

McG needed a nap. He suddenly felt a thousand years old.

"Sorry. It's been a long couple of days," he huffed. It wasn't fair of him to get mad at Adam.

"Y'look t'rrible."

McG smirked. Adam could barely talk, yet somehow, he could see what McG looked like in the dim room. He really shouldn't be surprised anymore. "Just tired. I'm okay."

"G't s'me sleep. 'M fine." As if to make a point, Adam weakly lifted his uninjured arm to feebly shoo McG away. Even now, he was trying to convince McG that he was just fine. He was pushing through full-body aches to ease McG's worries.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but not a chance." McG smiled, patting Adam's arm before sitting back in his seat. "I'd rather keep you company."

Adam smirked slightly, quietly acknowledging McG's own stubbornness. And even in his weak state, he silently took McG's emotional burden, little by little. The worry melted away. The foreboding atmosphere quietly slithered back into the dark corners.

Everything was going to be fine.

McG could feel it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Alas, the final chapter. What a ride. Thanks for sticking with it, folks._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

It was discharge day.

Adam was sitting on his hospital bed, gingerly cradling his broken ribs with his free arm while the other one sat limply in a sling. He was still exhausted and hurting, but it was better to be in their familiar team quarters than a strange hospital room.

McG stood beside him, preparing himself for the painful transport home. "You ready, Top?"  
Adam nodded stiffly, evidently still sore.

"Okay, just take it slow," McG instructed, carefully helping Adam from the bed to the waiting wheelchair. The fact that Adam hadn't even refused the wheelchair was evidence of how thrashed he was.

With plenty of pained grunts and tight muscles, Adam was finally situated in the chair, stiffly settling in with gritted teeth and a furrowed brow.

"You sure you good?" McG asked, watching Adam with a worried frown.

Adam shot him a glare. "I'm good."

McG took a step back, eyebrows raised as he looked at the rest of the team, who were waiting patiently off to the side. They matched his look of surprised worry.

"Sure you can handle the flight back to base?" Preach asked, knowing Adam was less likely to get annoyed with him than his younger teammates.

But Adam still spared him an unamused stare. "I'll make it."

Honestly, they were all a little uneasy about the trek home. While he wasn't sleeping nearly as much, Adam still tired out easily, dozing off in the middle of conversations . . . meal times . . . nurse checkups . . .

His body was still desperately healing.

But he wanted to be home.

So they'd get him home.

"Well, then let's get the hell outta here," McG encouraged good-naturedly, pushing Adam out of the room. It would be a wonder if Adam could stay awake long enough to even get on the plane. He already looked exhausted, and they'd only gotten from the bed to the chair.

From the corner of her eye, Jaz watched Adam as they rolled along. His face was thinner. _He _was thinner. She worriedly eyed the hollow of his cheeks and the purple dips under his eyes. Adam just looked _ill_.

But there was no rushing a healthy recovery. And they sometimes got worse before they got better—or really, they sometimes _looked _worse before they got better.

She was just glad the infection had run its course and that he was at least mostly like himself.

Albeit grumpy.

The team made their way out of the hospital, then helped Adam into the waiting transport vehicle. If it was possible, the move to the Humvee sapped even more of his energy, leaving something of a breathless husk behind.

"You okay, Top?" Jaz asked, sitting closest to him on the other side of the center console.

Adam closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths. He was pale. Shaking just a little from the exertion.

"Just take it easy, okay?" she urged, trying not to crowd him. If there was one thing Adam hated more than politics getting in the way of his job, it was being coddled.

But she wanted to hover. Until she knew he was fine.

He weakly waved her off as he got his breathing under control. Just as the vehicle pulled away from the hospital entrance, he got a handle on it, placing a gentle arm over his ribs.

And clearly not caring how he looked, he rested his head shamelessly on the window, closing his eyes as he held on to what little strength he had left.

Jaz bit her lip. This was unfair. Absolutely unfair.

But then, life wasn't fair, was it?

The ride to the airstrip was silent but tense. Eyes were all on Adam at one time or another. Even their gracious driver spared a few glances in the rearview mirror.

Truthfully, it was hard not to stare. It was clear Adam was in a lot of pain. And it was clearer that the brief journey out of the hospital had taken a _lot _out of him.

And getting him on the small plane was even worse. They had a hard time getting him back into the wheelchair, and then an even harder time getting him into the plane seat.

The safety harness was a whole different debacle.

"I know it's restricting and painful, but if you pass out on us, we have to make sure you won't fall out of your seat," McG explained patiently, helping Adam get his casted arm through one strap. Adam's head was drooping steadily now, until his ribs prodded him to stay alert.

He'd promptly passed out once they were at a cruising altitude.

But just before landing, they hit a pocket of turbulence, abruptly waking Adam as he let out a sharp grunt of pain. And as all the aches hit him at once, he let out a long and low groan.

And it sucked to just have to sit and watch as the plane descended.

Once they were firmly on the tarmac, McG immediately moving to check on Adam. Through Adam's tight wince of pain and weariness, it was tough to get a clear answer of how he was feeling. But the agony was evident, and the landing had only torn another cry from their CO.

McG practically had to haul Adam by himself to a waiting wheelchair, his usual grin replaced with a tightlipped look of concentrated concern.

Then came another transport vehicle with all the same aches and agonies.

And then they were home. _At last_.

But by then, Adam had been reduced to a quivering, agonized mess, which spoke volumes given his high pain threshold.

As they finally stepped into the common area, McG stopped, resting a comforting hand on Adam's shoulder. "You okay, Top? Feeling dizzy?"

How McG could spot things so quickly, Jaz would never know. But the next words out of his mouth were, "Somebody give me a bucket."

She and Amir had never scrambled so quickly in their careers. Amir nabbed a small trash can first, handing it swiftly to the medic.

Who immediately put it under Adam's chin, just in time to catch his nausea.

They all winced harshly as he vomited, watching the way his body seemed to seize with both the awful flexing of being sick as well as the stuttering sharp waves of pain from every broken rib and bruise.

The way his muscles jerked and tightened looked like a silent scream from his own body, wailing for it to stop.

McG left one comforting hand on Adam's shoulder as he waited for it to be over. From the look on his face, they could tell it ate him up inside to not be able to do anything.

When it finally came to an end, Adam kept a tight grip on the edges of the trash can, trying to simply breathe through the experience.

"You good?" McG croaked, patting Adam's shoulder. For a few seconds, Adam didn't respond.

And then he vomited again, emptying his stomach of whatever part of his meager breakfast was left.

Jaz had to look away. It was heartbreaking to see Adam struggling so much without any power to stop it. Even Amir had wandered into the kitchen to somehow distract himself from the wretched scene in front of them.

But Preach stayed and he kept his eyes on Adam. He waited with him and McG through every wave and roll. He offered silent support until Adam was finally finished and spent, almost completely slumped in the wheelchair.

Jaz forced herself to look as Preach and McG carefully moved a nearly slack Adam to the couch, situating him gingerly on the worn leather cushions, making sure he was laying on his good side. Jaz found herself grateful for their care and attention. And she couldn't deny the burning emotion in her chest when McG delicately draped a spare blanket over their commanding officer.

If Adam had to fall apart, at least he could do it safely here. Among family.

And they let him sleep, moving around him with reverence. Amir put Adam's things away. McG sneakily slipped a pillow under Adam's head. Preach sat in a nearby seat, keeping an eye on their leader as he rested his own aching head. All while Jaz milled about doing routine tasks, sneaking glances from the corner of her eye.

And when dinnertime came around, they gently woke him to get him to eat a light soup Amir had put together. But he wouldn't eat. Wasn't even coherent enough to talk himself into it for the sake of health and recovery.

So after a lot of coaxing and even some pleading, McG made the call to let him be.

Jaz couldn't help but stare at Adam's noticeably thinner face, wishing for a faster recovery.

As darkness fell and deepened, they all found a perch for the night, unwilling to move Adam again. Preach settled into the comfy armchair, while McG stubbornly sat in one of the kitchen chairs that he'd set right in front of Adam. Amir and Jaz worked together to pull their two cots from their rooms, determined to stay near just in case.

Even in the middle of the night, Adam wouldn't want for anything.

But he hardly stirred. He'd briefly woken up, but after a quiet—and mostly one-sided—conversation with McG, he drifted off again, still feeling the stiff aches from the jittery bounces of Humvees and the bumpy plane.

It wasn't until the early morning that he woke up for real, rested but groggy.

McG's slumbering hunch was the first thing to greet him.

With bloodshot, weary eyes, he surveyed the room, spotting familiar figures littered about the space.

Had they slept here?

Guilt sat like a rock in his stomach, mixing with the pulses of pain from his side . . . his leg . . . his arm . . . his head . . .

He felt terrible. Like he'd been used as a punching bag and then intensely shaken. Feeling somewhat restless, he tried to shift a little. A groan escaped him before he could stop it.

McG practically jolted awake, already leaning toward Adam with anxious eyes.

"You good, Top?"

"I'm fine," he groused, disguising his guilt with annoyance. "You didn't have to sleep here. I'm okay." He stared at the uncomfortable chair McG had committed to, and his voice softened. "That can't be comfortable."

McG shrugged, dark eyes meeting blue. "I wasn't going to leave you until I knew you were okay. And yesterday was tough, so . . . here I am."

Adam didn't say a word, merely staring at the dark brown of McG's irises. The medic could be surprisingly open and emotional when the going got rough, but even though Adam took it in stride most of the time, he wasn't exactly comfortable with it when those raw feelings were about _him_.

"We were all kinda worried about you," McG mumbled. "How's your ribs? They can't be feeling great after all that puking yesterday."

Adam pressed his lips in a thin line. He'd hoped that was just an unpleasant dream. He'd rather succumb to his weakness alone, not in front of the entire team.

"They're fine," he answered quickly, looking away. Truly, they still ached and wailed. But they still felt like they were in the right places, so at least none of them had shifted in the ordeal.

Surprisingly, McG didn't call him out, instead letting him hide behind the lie.

The sweetness of tender mercies.

"Hungry?"

Adam knew what McG _wanted _to hear, but he also knew that McG wouldn't stand for it if he lied again.

"Not really, but I can give it a go," Adam admitted. The words were bitter in his mouth. He didn't like it, but he'd have to endure for his subordinate. His brother in arms.

"I've got it," said a familiar voice.

McG twisted around to look at Amir as Adam refocused his gaze on the smaller man. They hadn't even noticed him waking, let alone listening in on their conversation.

"Hey, good morning," McG greeted the ex-spy, grinning widely. He was in good spirits; Adam could tell. So at least there was that.

"Well, look who's awake," Jaz added, just sitting up on her cot with a small smile. "Took your damn time."

Adam's mouth quirked up at the corner as he blinked tiredly. "Didn't want to make it too easy on you."

McG touched his shoulder, a question already in the creases of his face. "You mind if I check on Preach? Just want to make sure he's all good."

"Of course," Adam croaked, waving the medic away. "I'm fine."

He wasn't fine, but close enough.

As soon as McG had vacated his seat, Jaz slipped right into it. "So, how're you feeling?"

Adam took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow, closing his eyes for a minute. "Exhausted."

"Makes sense," she replied, leaning back. "You've got a lot to heal. Body's probably working in overdrive."

"Did I really throw up in front of everyone yesterday?" he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

She let out a huff. "Yeah. Definitely."

Adam groaned.

"Hey, you couldn't help it. Pain does a lot of weird things to a person." Jaz winced a little, remembering the awful image from the day before. "Just . . . try not to do it again."

"Don't plan on it," he muttered darkly.

"Hey," she said quietly, leaning forward a little. "We've got your back, Top. You just focus on resting, and we'll take care of the rest."

Adam stared at her, blinking against the increasing light of the morning. He wanted to tell her they didn't have to. He wanted to tell her he was fine and they shouldn't go through the trouble.

But he knew that would only upset them. So he swallowed down the words and surrendered to something new. "Thank you."

Her face brightened, and he felt lighter.

He'd let them take care of him.

Even if he didn't think he deserved it.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

They had decided to do a puzzle.

It had been a few weeks since Adam's plunge over the cliff edge, but he still couldn't use crutches, and a wheelchair was still pretty hard to use with a broken arm and healing ribs.

The bruises were finally beginning to fade, and Amir had forced enough food in him to chase away the hollow look to his features. But he still struggled to eat a full meal, and his shirts still hung looser than they would've liked.

But with his limited mobility, Adam was often stuck in one place, hoping for a distraction to come along. After all, one could only play so many video games before they got tired of the same old scenarios.

So today, they had decided to do a puzzle.

McG had borrowed it from a friend on base, and Amir and Jaz had already dumped all 500 pieces out onto the kitchen table, digging through them for smooth edges.

Adam sat on one side of the table, watching his two team members rifling through the pile. They could all tell he was plastering on that good-natured smile to appease them, but they were determined to enjoy the moment, if only to have an excuse to bask in Adam's living presence.

"Can't say I'm any good at this," Adam said sheepishly, helping Jaz and Amir find the edge pieces. "I haven't made many of these."

"What's nice about puzzles is they aren't a race," Preach stated smoothly, deftly flipping over pieces to prep the space. "It's more about the soothing nature of the process and, sometimes, the people you do it with."

"It's too early for that kind of shit, Preach," McG groaned, dramatically rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Amir frowned. "It's two o' clock in the afternoon."

"Precisely," McG huffed, turning his attention back to the task at hand. "Like I said, too early."

"It's always too early for McG," Jaz teased. "He's not too much of a deep thinker."

Amir chuckled to himself, eyes on his work.

And for a moment, Adam just let himself enjoy the moment. The comforting warmth of familiar jokes. The quiet echo of care in each word. All in the cocoon of a safe, soft place.

His ribs still ached. His head still throbbed. But at least he was home. With the people that mattered most.

This was all he wanted.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was several more weeks before Adam was cleared for duty. The team had to leave him behind for a few of their own assignments as he recovered, and the separation felt alien and strange. But they had a job to do, so they did it.

And now, Adam was finally permitted to rejoin them.

They trudged up the rugged terrain, eyes scanning the landscape for any danger. They were searching for a missing agent, and Command had strangely tracked the agent's movements to the middle of nowhere, among a strange mix of topography.

And it wasn't long before they met trouble.

In the tussle, Adam found himself toe to toe with an enemy, and the two of them inched dangerously close to a nearby drop-off. Just as Adam got the upper hand, McG stepped in, easily dispatching the foe with his combat knife—just before grabbing Adam roughly by the bicep to pull him further into safe, flat land.

Adam gave him a look as the battle quieted down around them.

"There's no way I'm letting you get that close to a cliff ever again," McG huffed, shaking his head.

Adam looked behind him at the clear edge, wincing as he understood the medic's meaning. He turned back to McG, seeing the rest of the team with much of the same looks standing behind their teammate.

"Not a chance," Jaz added, folding her arms. "Solid ground, and that's it."

Knowing he was outnumbered, Adam allowed himself a lopsided smile.

"Alright, no more cliffs."

It was nice to be cared for.

_Fin._


End file.
